Page 19 of Broken Dreams

Being a girl is awful these days. Blowing out a breath, I moisturize once out of the shower to soothe my reddened skin and wrap a towel around my body. I don’t want anyone to complain that I’ve been spending too much time here. It’s thereason I started getting ready for tonight early, to attempt to stay off the boss’ radar.

“Makayla!” Bret yells, banging on the door as I close my eyes briefly.

Wonderful.It’s going to be that kind of day. Everything is already set up, I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.

Opening the door because I never lock it, I gaze at Bret dispassionately. I didn’t do anything wrong, I don’t really understand what else I can do to deescalate this.

“You never fucking talk,” he snarls. “It’s the creepiest shit ever, Makayla.”

Grabbing my arm, he pulls me along next to him as he walks. The girls studiously look away, and I have a feeling one of them may have sent him sniffing in my direction.

Bitches.

“The clients don’t care because they just want to fuck your tight holes,” he continues.

Isn’t that the point?I think. No one cares what I do or don’t have to say. It’s easier to stay out of trouble by remaining silent.

“I know that I can make you scream though,” he growls, speaking to fill up the silence.

It’s one of the things that makes Bret Harris so weak. He can’t allow himself to sit in the quiet, because for whatever reason, it makes him uncomfortable. That shouldn’t be my problem, but it seems as if he’s going to make it mine.

Dragging me into the office, he throws me across the room. My shoulder hits the wall, making me wince. I listen to Bret continue to scream at me, and Linus peeks his head in, eyes wide.

I refuse to look at him because it’ll either pull him into this or make Bret decide to use him to punish me. Neither option is something I want, so I keep my eyes on the screaming alpha.

I can feel when Linus leaves, his scent a trace of burnt tea in the air. Bret sneezes twice as I continue to stay silent. My words aren’t going to solve anything at this point, even if I were to beg, which I won’t.

The only way to stay semi true to myself is to hold onto the girl who refuses to back down. I’ll survive whatever he throws at me because I have to.

“I bought a new cane today,” he finally says.

There are BDSM items in the club for those who wish to use them. Consent isn’t something that’s necessary here when our voices don’t matter. It’s yet another reason why I refuse to use mine.

Whatever will happen isn’t going to be changed by the words of a sex slave, so why bother?

“I think I’ll make an exhibit of you tonight. Saxon will be in charge of this, and afterward you’ll take a place at the gloryhole,” he decides.

I’ve spent time in various positions at Broken Dreams, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been a faceless hole for an alpha. Bret decides the hole it’ll be, and some kneel as they wait for a dick to be thrust into the hole in a board that’s set up, their mouths open. Others are maneuvered so that it’s their wet pussy that’s waiting or a tight asshole.

What’s even more interesting is that a female alpha sometimes steps up to the board with toys or plugs for the glory hole to fulfil her fantasies. No one knows who will come to be serviced at the board, and the alphas don’t know which omega will be waiting.

I think the worst part of this in Bret’s mind is the humiliation of being put on display to be punished, but everything about performing at Broken Dreams is degrading. None of it is something anyone would want to do of their own free will.

And so I say nothing. My hair is dripping wet, making a mess on the floor because I didn’t have a chance to use a towel on it. My outward appearance hasn’t changed, not even my heartbeat has. I’m not going to enjoy this farce that’s being done to make Bret believe he’s won or that his dick is going to grow four inches because of his decision.

This is a power move by an alpha with tiny dick energy, and not even a very good one at that.

“Fucking bitch!” Bret complains. “Go get ready. I’ll make sure to tell Saxon to pull out the spanking bench.”

Saxon is a big, burly beta guard who does whatever he’s told. He’s not here by choice any more than I am. Someone sold him to Bret in a card game as collateral. The man who sold him was his alpha.

I’ve only heard whispers about this over the years. I’m sure there’s more to the story, but it’s made Saxon angry and cruel. This is going to suck.

Swallowing hard, I hurry past him, gasping when Bret yanks my towel away from me so I have to continue to walk naked.

“Don’t get dressed or cover yourself at all today,” he says. “I want you fucking naked when you’re whipped for being so damned stubborn, Makayla.”

The funny thing is I’m not being stubborn. Like they simply won’t understand that while not speaking is a choice, most days I forget I even can. I’ll go days without speaking to even Linus. He can talk enough for the both of us.

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